End of the Rebellion
by Kristina.Taylor.Mellark
Summary: This is a random one-shot written for MY OWN entertainment. You don't have to read it if you don't want to. I made up my own character, and this took my like 10 minutes to write, so it's not going to be my BEST work. THIS IS NOT A GAY SLASH!


**This is a random one-shot that I'm writing just because I can. I know it's REALLY bad compared to everyone else's Hunger Games writings, but that's okay with me. Just don't write anything too mean, please? I didn't try my hardest on this piece of writing, but I hope you like at least SOME of it? I created my own character for this. Her name is Dahlia, instead of it being Katniss. But there's still Gale and Peeta. This is after the Rebellion, obviously, just by reading the first line you'd kind of get the idea...um, Happy Reading? (:**

"It's over, the Rebellion is over!" an elderly man shouts.

"Is it really over?" I ask, gripping Gale's hand.

"Yes, I think it is," he breathes, looking down at me with a smile.

I can't believe it. We won! There's no need for war, the Capitol's been taken down. Finally. Gale unexpectedly gives me a hug, lifting me off the ground and muffling his sobs in my hair. "Dahlia," he chokes out.

"Dahlia!" Peeta Mellark shouts, pushing through the crowd to reach me.

"Peeta!" I cry, wrapping my arms around him tightly.

Gale didn't want to let me go, but when his hands brush Peeta's stomach when Peeta grabs me he immediately lets go. Peeta presses his lips to mine, and next thing I know my hands wrap around his neck to kiss him back.

Gale clears his throat, and I push Peeta away. "Gale—" I hesitate.

"Don't." He cuts me off harshly, and trudges in the other direction.

"Gale! Don't go!" I shout, rushing after him.

"Dahlia, he'll come around," says Peeta.

"You know he won't!" I yell, tears spilling down my cheeks as I watch him leave.

"Dahlia, you didn't expect him to be okay with us getting married did you?" he asks in a low voice.

"He doesn't even know!" I wail.

"Of course he does," Peeta says. "It was broadcast live on TV almost a year ago."

"He stopped watching it after we won the first time!" I shout, rage blurring my vision with hot tears.

"Dahlia, calm down," he murmurs, rubbing my arm to soothe me. "He'll be okay."

"He won't! He's going to go do something stupid and it's all my fault!" I turn to where I last saw him walking to find he wasn't there anymore. "He's already gone!"

"No he's not, Dahlia, he wouldn't just leave you without saying good-bye." Peeta says reasonably.

"You don't know that," I lower my voice. "He's done it before."

"Obviously he didn't leave if he's still here," Peeta wraps his arms around me again and hugs me tight. "Listen, if you want, I can go talk to him for you."

"No!" I say immediately. "I—just don't think that's a good idea."

"I shouldn't have even suggested it," Peeta shakes his head. "He hates my guts."

"It's not you he hates," I correct him. "It's me."

"How can he hate you? You're his best friend." Peeta asks.

"I'm going to go talk to him." I murmur, pushing myself away from him to shove through the crowd.

"Gale?" I murmur, coming up behind him.

"What?" Gale grumbles angrily.

"I'm sorry." I sit down next to him.

"What?" he asks.

"I'm sorry," I repeat solemnly. "I should have told you sooner."

"Told me what?" he asks, turning to look at me.

"Peeta and I were supposed to get married." I whisper.

"What!" he shouts, his eyes widening and his lips harden into a thin line.

"I should've told you, and I'm sorry! I just—I didn't know how to tell you! Gale—I…" I pause.

"You what?" he leans closer to me.

"I don't know—" I choke.

"Dahlia, do you remember the day you went to the Hunger Games? Almost two years ago? Do you remember what I said when I got taken out of the room?" he whispered.

"All you said was 'Dahlia, remember I—!' and then you were taken away…I don't know what you wanted me to remember." I murmur.

"I love you," whispers Gale.

"Gale—" I protest.

His lips hit mine, hard. I sit there, unmoving, as he kisses me. I can't help but feel guilty. I'm engaged, to Peeta, and I'm kissing my best friend. This kiss is different from the ones I've shared with Peeta. This kiss means something different to me, something more complex than trying to win over the Capitol, more complex than any strategy to stay alive in some Games.

"I had to do that, at least once before I die," says Gale as he pulls away.

"What was that?" Peeta asks from behind us.

Gale raises his knife, aiming it at Peeta. "Back up," he growls.

"Peeta," I say. "It's not what it looks like—"

"It may as well be exactly what it looked like," says Gale.

"Dahlia," Peeta murmurs.

"Dahlia," Gale says at the same time.

I look between the two of them, and I sink to my knees. I bite my lip to hold back the tears. _What do I do?_ I think. _I'm supposed to marry Peeta. But, I love Gale, don't I? Just not in the way he wants me to._

"Peeta, take me home," I whisper, tears rolling down my cheeks.

"Dahlia—" Gale murmurs brokenly.

"Please," I take Peeta's hand and let him take me away, back to our home, where I feel safe.


End file.
